


Miri

by sexythorsupremacy



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Drama, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Mutual Pining, Mystery, Slow Burn, WHAT IS GRIEF IF NOT LOVE PERSEVERING, are they star-crossed lovers? yes AND no, i allow the plebs to read this fic bc I am a slut for validation, oc's hands are cold, sharon carter is an underrated character, steve has warm hands, validate me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:59:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26477596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sexythorsupremacy/pseuds/sexythorsupremacy
Summary: Miri's been with Shield for five years, and then all of a sudden it's over. The aftermath of the Battle at the Triskelion leaves her stunned, and the mysterious death of her best friend coupled with her growing affection for a certain super-soldier doesn't help. Steve/OC
Relationships: Steve Rogers & Original Female Character(s), Steve Rogers/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 5





	1. Talk

_Washington DC suburbs, 0253 hours_

Miri jolted awake to the sound of her phone ringing off its metaphorical hook. Her heart pounded out of her chest as she reached across the pillow, grasping for the extremely offensive vibrating rectangle and flipping it over. The light temporarily blinded her, and Miri squinted at her boss’ contact info. Which had appeared on her phone. At three in morning. Damn it.

“Merdan-” she croaked, reaching with her other hand for the water bottle she had almost knocked over.

The line was quiet for a moment and Miri wondered for a second if it was a buttdial.

_Christ- I will block her number. I swear to god I will._

It wasn’t. Within minutes Miri was staring up at the shower head, swirling water around in her mouth and contemplating how she was going to get any sleep with the day she presumed was ahead of her.

Her boss- Julia Locj (pronounced luge- go figure, right?) had not, in fact, woken her on accident. From what Miri could gather of Locj’s groggily delivered and heavily French accented spiel of information, Director Fury had woken her even earlier. A SHIELD scientific team off the coast of Italy had been taken hostage by pirates in final hours of the previous day- teams were being called in, but Miri had been selected as handler. 

According to Locj, the head pirate honcho and mastermind behind the hijacking was Georges Batroc, a french mercenary who boasted a series of files deep in SHIELD archives full of all the nasty stuff he did- assassinations, bombings...tax fraud. From what Miri understood he had never been suicidal, but this move- taking SHIELD personnel and property hostage- well, it was about as close to suicide as you could get without actually pulling the trigger.

Especially with the Captain, STRIKE, _and_ Black Widow supposedly being called in.

Stepping out of the shower and stripping herself of the pink shower cap topping her figure, Miri stared at herself in the mirror.

Dark circles. Hair that she didn’t have time to let dry. A pimple above her left eyebrow. She’d likely have a few more before the day was out. From what she’d experienced working with STRIKE in the past, stress was bound to be a factor. Despite his devil may care attitude, in Miri’s experience Brock Rumlow was an anal retentive control freak who took special pride in having and being the biggest dick.And she’d heard around the water coolers that Captain Rogers in particular wasn’t the easiest to work with. Something about how his impressive ability to _not_ break every bone in his body attempting things lesser men would be flattened by had given him a staggering hero complex and an ego the size of a black hole.

_Don’t judge. You haven’t met him, you don’t know him. He’s also supposed to be a perfect gentlemen, so there’s that._

Miri sighed as she pulled grabbed her keys and headed out the door. She had a sneaking suspicion that he was _not_ a perfect gentleman. No one was. Especially at three in the morning.

* * *

_Triskelion Archives_ _, 0400 hours_

The old file cabinets creaked as Miri maneuvered her way through the archives. Even at SHIELD, an organization rife with overachievers and early risers,the dark bowels of the Triskelion were still deserted. She was free to glare at every passing file cabinet without judgement, and attempt to open the ones that had rusted shut without the critical eyes of the standard 6 foot tall ex-military SHIELD employee. 

_Is that a seven or a one?_ Low lighting plus sleep deprivation was not making it easier for Miri to find the Lemurian Star folder, even after she’d found the right cabinet.

A bout of intense rifling proved satisfactory, however, as she found the folder holding the blueprints, comm systems and engine room schematics, and fingers crossed, a recently updated crew roster. Tucking the folder under her arm and cursing the overhaul of the filing security system that had forced her to go searching for the hard copies, Miri made her way back up the stairs and towards the elevators.

At least after she exited the archives the rest of the Triskelion was still down to its barebones staff. The night shift was small- just a handful of analysts and handlers like her who had either stayed too late or come in too early. Other than the occasional burst of quiet chatter, the only sound was the sound of janitors waxing floors.

_It’s kind of nice, actually,_ Miri thought.

The elevator doors dinged softly and opened, delivering her to the third floor and the soft comfort of her cubicle. Miri lowered herself into her chair, plopped the Star file on her desk. She stared at the alert on her computer for the intel file she had just received and then stuck her palms into her eye sockets. Tired or not, work had to be done- a plan formed, teams alerted- etc, etc.

Miri picked up the phone, mentally scrolling through her list of prep duties. _Check the Star details, develop the basic strike plan, call Ari and have her prep for departure, get approval from Locj and brief Rumlow or Rogers._

The number she dialed was one she knew by heart- it rang twice and was picked up. A female voice sounded at the other end.

“Hey Mir- what’s up?” The voice of Ari Robinson, Miri’s close friend and a rather skilled stealth quinjet pilot, sounded at the other end of the phone.

Miri let out a small sigh of relief- “I’m so glad you’re not Bernerd.”

Ari laughed. “Yeah- thank god I’m _not_ Bernerd. What’s going on, aren’t you not supposed to be here for-” Ari paused, and Miri knew she was glancing at her watch, “-another four hours?”

“Special op from Fury,” Miri stated.

“Ooo- do tell.” Ari settled back in her chair.

“Batroc- you know that french merc I told you about? He hijacked a ship of SHIELD science officers off the coast of Italy. We’ve got STRIKE, the Black Widow, and get this- Captain America.”

Ari squealed and Miri smiled. Her friend was a rather notorious gossip, and the small amount of scuttlebutt Miri was ever aware of usually came from the fact that Ari seemed to have more details of the personal lives of SHIELD employees than they themselves.

“You know I hear he and Romanoff are a thing. Maybe.” Miri could hear Ari’s smile through the phone.

“Well- whether or not they’re a thing I want you for flight. Bernerd’s not here, he’d obviously be my first choice-” She could hear Ari cackle on the other end of the line.

Miri smiled. “Departure at 1600, from Hangar 2- you in?”

“You say that like I don’t work here or have to say yes- but yes!” Ari whooped over the phone.

“You're awfully chipper for someone who's up so early. I’ll send you the specs- fuel for Italy and back.” Miri leaned back in her chair and scrolled through the intel folder on her computer. “We should get to see another sunset.”

“You bet your sweet ass we’ll get to see a sunset. I’ll see you at 1600.” The phone clicked as Ari hung up, not double itching to get out from behind her desk and back into the quinjets she loved so much.

Miri smiled and swiveled her chair, reaching over her desk to hang her phone back up. She had an op to plan. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys. I've been working on this story for a really long time, and I don't have any plans to abandon it. I really hope you like it because it means a lot to me, and it's been really fun to write. Please comment, it really makes my day. This is also my first long form fic so any constructive criticism is welcome :) Enjoy!


	2. Girl With One Eye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miri rages and runs.

_Triskelion Level 3, 1500 hours_

After her call with Ari, Miri finished her coffee and prepared for her briefing. Mission directives had to be sent out to every involved party, resulting in her not only writing up and printing the main brief, but an individual brief for every department of SHIELD she was calling up for duty. For example, Search and Rescue - well, mostly rescue - had to be called because she needed their extra for hostage exfiltration. She’d sent a memo to Brock Rumlow after realizing that the stunning lack of reliable information in her intel report would force her to request additional STRIKE personnel. Within minutes Rumlow replied with a brief confirmation of her assessment and a roster of additional men, and that was that. With extra agents, the operation would be easy pickings for the team. Batroc had reportedly been seen pacing around the command center with only two guards, waiting for SHIELD’s response to his ransom demand. She smirked at the thought of the French pirate, who in her opinion had made an incalculably moronic mistake, with nothing to do but wear tracks into the floor while he waited on the inevitable. It really was bizarre to her why any self respecting pirate would walk themselves into a situation in which they were so clearly outclassed. She wouldn’t be caught dead crossing SHIELD at such a magnitude, if only for the fact that she liked her head connected firmly to her shoulders.

All in all, Miri was beginning to feel slightly optimistic about her chances of being home in time for bed. She sent the files Labaye, and in the time it took Miri to scrounge up and hork down a leftover bagel from a morning birthday fete, the phone rang with her boss’ extension.“Agent Merdan speaking,” Miri intoned, holding the phone to her ear with one shoulder and sweeping the crumbs of her meal into the trashcan. 

"Agent," came the quick reply, “Briefing in 15, my office.”

“Yes ma’am,” Miri replied, and then hung up the phone. She pulled her flash drive out of her desktop and stuffed it in her pocket, swinging her bag over her arm as she exited her cubicle. 

Miri stepped into the elevator and pressed her thumb against the close door button, eager to shut herself off before anyone else stepped in. She could also see her reflection in the glass, superimposed over the Potomac, and it was not a flattering picture. Out of the corner of her eye, the waters of the Potomac flashed and Miri turned to admire them in the moment before the elevator doors dinged open. At the end of the hall and through the one way glass was Labaye’s office, situated closely and with the door enough ajar that Miri could see a pair of Kevlar clad navy blue shoulders, the owner of which could only be one Steve Rogers.

Miri turned and waited a moment before power walking towards Labaye’s office as soon as the doors opened. At the end of the hall and through the glass door she could see Steve Rogers’ broad shoulders hunched as he crossed his arms over his chest. _And here I thought he’d have the posture of a military man._

She pulled the door open, greeting her boss and then directing her attention to the much taller, much blonder, American hero.

"Afternoon, Captain Rogers."

Labaye stood and walked around her desk to the conference table, introducing Miri. “Steve, this is Agent Merdan. She’ll be briefing us today.” Ever the analyst, Miri noted his shoulders hunch a mite more at Labaye’s uncharacteristically informal greeting. 

Rogers nodded his head towards Miri, and gave her a curt, "Afternoon Agent.” 

She nodded back politely and gestured at her bag. “I’ve got the briefs…”

Labaye signalled her lazily and Miri queued presentation to the large screen on the wall before wiping her palms-surreptitiously, she hoped, turning back to the two much taller people in the room and launching into her presentation. 

“As we well know, SHIELD has itself stationed in strategic areas all across the world. One of our tech launching vessels is illegally parked off the coast of Italy, and as of this morning has been hijacked by pirates. Technically she's not even supposed to be there, but it’s too late for that." At this, she saw Steve frown.

Labaye must have seen it too, because she interjected. "Problem, Mr Rogers?"

"Not ma'am, not yet," he responded. 

"Alright then, let’s keep going. Merdan?"

Miri continued. "Alright, well no matter where she is, it's our job to get her back. She's been hijacked by a French pirate, one of their most wanted, actually - his name's Batroc.” 

She gestured to the photo, which was a blurry headshot of Batroc, pulled from a surveillance cam.

"And this guy's more than your average mercenary. According to our intelligence, he's been involved in several high profile covert operations, both sanctioned and unsanctioned. He was trained by the French Special Forces and SHIELD’s been after him since he deserted for a host of international crimes. Assassinations, hijackings - also, tax fraud, surprisingly. He’s highly skilled in hand to hand combat, Captain -" here Miri paused and slightly turned towards Steve, who was staring straight at her. Miri blinked for a second, surprised by the direct eye contact. "Captain, he'll be yours. Batroc gives the orders and neutralizing him will be crucial - we’ll be cutting off the head of the snake, as it were. I’ve requested additional STRIKE personnel to keep the rest of the crew occupied, but he’s a much higher value target.”

Miri held Steve's gaze until he nodded in approval, at which point she turned back to her brief and continued.

"His men are spread out through the different levels of the ship. Seven to ten on the second deck guarding prisoners ." 

At this point Miri unrolled the blueprint of the ship onto Labaye's desk and began pointing.

"And ten patrolling the top. Intelligence estimates there's another three men stationed in the lowest levels. Agent Romanoff's more effective in close quarters, so I've put her down there." Miri tapped the paper and paused slightly, looking around. Labaye was staring intently at the blueprints - mentally taking notes and preparing a no doubt thorough list of what Miri missed, but once again there were a pair of too-blue eyes staring Miri down. 

_Do I have something on my face? Be_ more _weird, really, I don't mind._ She squinted at him and cleared her throat before turning back to her presentation.

"Captain, you'll be making the jump from a relatively low elevation and parachuting onto the deck. The team will neutralize first level targets, then split for individual assignments. I’d like to emphasize that coordination is key, so if you could impress this onto Agent Rumlow when you brief him I would be much obliged. Ideally, STRIKE will coordinate their second level entry with your attack on Batroc, Captain." 

Miri kept her eyes on the paper, not wanting to get another weird stare from the super-solder to her right. His presence was imposing as it was, never mind the fact that Miri was almost positive she could feel where his stare was burning a hole in the back of her head. "We've located him on the upper level decks with a couple of bodyguards, but if I'm right they should be low level threats. I'll be in the air tracking heat signatures and feeding you relevant information, but for the most part you'll be on your own. When you need evac for the crew, your comms link with Search and Rescue is Link 5. If medical it’s Link 4, but I’d appreciate it if you would update me on anything of that nature as well.”

She was almost done.

“Ideally, with a low altitude entry from the quinjet onto the deck, you'll be able to make it through mostly undetected, so we're going for zero casualties on our sides, and complete hostage extraction. And finally, use of deadly force is permitted, but at your own discretion. Handing Batroc over to the French would be a win for SHIELD, but if that can't happen, it's understood," Miri finished. "Any questions?"

There was a pregnant pause. Miri could practically see the gears working in Steve’s head, but when he spoke it was directed to Labaye. 

"She'll be in the air?" He straightened up, and then turned to Miri."I don't mean to be rude, ma'am, but STRIKE doesn’t need a handler, especially with Romanoff and myself. Outside personnel will increase the risk of casualties." 

It was a weak excuse. It was such a fucking weak excuse that Miri was pretty sure steam was coming out of her ears. She stared at Rogers, and he stared back down at her, and then Labaye interrupted and he broke their standoff. 

"Handlers are an essential part of any operation. It's protocol for Agent Merdan to be there - to minimize casualties.” Labaye had no qualms about repeating Steve’s own words back to him. Miri silently cheered. 

"In theory though, and correct me if I'm wrong - Agent Merdan could operate from the Triskelion and she'd be just as effective." Steve's head swiveled between Labaye and Miri, waiting for one of them to give him what he wanted.

 _I wonder if he knows he's not actually a Captain…._ Miri's eye twitched, and she could feel a headache surfacing. Anger clawed up her throat but she swallowed it down, instead performing the most intense internal eye roll she could muster. In the corner of her eye she could see Labaye slightly shake her head, but Miri couldn't help herself. She turned to Steve and apparently not even 90 year old super soldiers were immune to the effects of Miri's death glare, because he blinked as she crossed her arms and straightened her back in an attempt to find a way to match his _annoyingly_ built stance. 

"I'm sure you don't mean to be rude, _Captain_. And in theory I could stay behind and sit and wait for you to do the dirty work, but I've found that it's better for all parties if I'm there. Our data shows that handler involvement minimizes casualties, and the last thing I want is to lose an agent.”

 _I’d make an exception in that policy for you, though,_ she ground out internally. 

“So if it helps you, don't think of me as your babysitter, or your handler. I mean, technically I am, but that's besides the point." 

_Take that you pompous prick._

"I'm here to do the things that would make your job harder, and they happen to be things that I do very well. So unless you disagree with something other than my fundamental existence, I'd appreciate it if you would let me do my job so that you can do yours."

Steve narrowed his eyes at her outburst and Miri could see his jaw twitch. She mirrored his gaze. There was as much of a chance of hell freezing over as there was of Miri tapping out and handing over the reins to her operation, and she made sure that was exactly the message he was getting. His narrowed eyes transformed into a look that Miri couldn't quite read, but she was pretty sure it said "Oh, so this is how it's gonna be."

_Yeah, that's how it's fucking gonna be if you try and kick me off my op again. I'll mouth off until your red white and blue ass heads back into 1943 where it belongs. And I’ve got Labaye on my side for once, so back off, buddy._

"Forward me the briefs. Agent, I'll see you at 1600 hours." He nodded tersely at Labaye before turning on his heel and marching out.

* * *

As soon as he was gone, Miri's eyes widened and she let out a breath she didn't even realize she'd been holding.

"Je-sus. That was like pulling teeth " She dropped into the chair across the desk from Labaye, who was smiling in thinly veiled amusement.

"I am glad he angers other people as much as he does me." Labaye's eyes twinkled in a rare display of camaraderie as she directed this comment at Miri, who scoffed. 

“I’m surprised anyone can stand him, if that’s how he acts - try to kick me off my own op. I bet he didn’t get up at three in the goddamn morning to plan this shitshow - goddamn patriotic _bastard.”_ At this point Miri was just mumbling incoherently. 

“1600 hours, you say?” Labaye’s accent muffled her words a bit, and Miri had to process what she was saying. 

“What about 1600 - oh, yeah. I scheduled with Commander Robinson, she’ll be at Hangar 6 - it’s all in the brief I sent you both.” 

Labaye looked pensive for a moment. “Go down to Hangar 6 now. Rogers has a history of going off book - make sure he doesn’t leave without you.”

Miri gaped internally. There was no way he had the balls to just _leave_ her. 

_On second thought…._

“Copy that Agent. I’ll head down there now.” Miri got up from her chair. 

Labaye gave her another one of her patented _better hurry up_ looks, and Miri practically burned holes in the carpet as she booked it out of the office.   
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently in real life the Triskelion atrium is the Cleveland Museum of Art atrium, and the way they have it set up in real life reminds me of the mall from my childhood. You find out the weirdest things writing fanfiction. 
> 
> Again, thank you guys so much for reading :-) It makes me happy I'm not just throwing this fic into the void.


	3. The Spectator

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They almost die because Steve is a dumb bitch. He will be yelled at.

_South of the Triskelion, 1330 hours_

_Even in the spring I still sweat fucking buckets._

Miri's shirt stuck to her back almost as soon as she exited the Triskelion and stepped into the swampy air of DC. When Labaye pointed out that she might get left behind on her own op, Miri ran for it - 7 blocks straight, all the way to West 23rd and Jefferson, and then down a long alley towards the converted warehouse at the end. Her laptop bag had smacked her hip for all seven blocks - she probably already had a bruise.

At the end of the alley and in front of a small red door, Miri flashed her SHIELD badge at a camera she knew had to be watching her. After a moment the door creaked open and Miri stepped into a blast of freezing air which immediately cooled the sweat tracing down her back.

Miri shivered, which had everything to do with the sweat on her back and only a little to do with the imposing figures surrounding the only quinjet ready for takeoff. She was plenty familiar with STRIKE, having worked with them before, but farther inside she could see the more unfamiliar figures of the Black Widow and Rogers - one of whom she'd already pissed off. Oops.

It was completely silent, save for the tap of her boots against the concrete floor. Running seven blocks, even with the compulsory physical training SHIELD put it's employees through, had done a number on her breathing. Miri was pretty sure that if she let out the breath she was currently holding she was going to descend into a coughing fit.

And wouldn't that be just perfect.

She made her way up the incline of the ramp, ignoring the passing stares from the STRIKE team standing around the inside of the jet. Off to the side she saw Rogers talking to Agent Romanoff. Rogers ignored her completely, but out of the corner of her eye she could see Romanoff staring at her intently. She kept her head down - around SHIELD, Natasha Romanoff was known as the type of agent who could smell fear, and one wrong move was all she needed to know how to take you down. Just from Romanoff's piercing gaze Miri was inclined to agree, and so she continued to the front of the plane to greet Ari.

"Hey babes - woah- you good?" Ari looked mildly frightened as Miri sank into her seat.

"I just…. ran….seven…...fucking blocks -" Miri wheezed between breaths, "Thought you might….leave without me."

From her position slumped in her chair Miri could see Ari looking amused.

"Miri, if I have to fly over 4,000 miles in one night you can bet your ass I'm not taking off with just them for company." Ari gestured wildly at the figures strapping themselves down in the back, managing to make Miri laugh and choke a little bit.

"Didya know I've already flown three missions this week? Three? And someone shot at me on one of them. I should get double overtime." Ari mused, flicking switches and closing the doors to the jet.

Darkness reigned for a moment before the interior lights illuminated the agents in a warm glow, and Miri smiled at her friend even though she couldn't see her. She fucking loved Ari. So. Goddamn. Much.

"Flight control, can I get a crosscheck? We are cleared and ready for takeoff." Ari listened for the confirmation and after a moment Miri could hear a low rumble. Above them the warehouse roof opened, spilling light through the quinjet window.

Ari's voice crackled her over the comms, taking on a distinctly flight-attendantish flair as she began to speak.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain Ariana Robinson speaking. I'd like to welcome you to Shield Airlines flight 1219 direct to Italy. At this time please make sure your seatbacks and tray tables are in their full upright and locked position, and that your seatbelt is correctly fastened. Please stow any portable devices until our arrival - on behalf of myself and Director Fury we wish you a comfortable flight, and thank you so much for flying Shield Airlines." The comms clicked off and Ari pulled the controls upward, taxiing the jet into the sunlight now flooding through the previously closed ceiling. There was a clicking on the outside of the jet and then Miri could feel her stomach sink into her knees as the quinjet pulled upwards, instantly forgetting about the snicker she was holding in and instead moving her hands to her midsection.

"Did you bring me any barf bags?" Miri groaned as the jet continued to climb.

"Miri, you can't barf every time. Swallow it," Ari joked without even bothering to look at Miri.

"That was once." Miri sank deeper into her seat as the plane began moving eastward. "Oh god oh god oh god - I forgot how much I hate flying."

Eventually the sun began to drop behind them and the longer the quinjet flew the more it seemed to be racing into the night, speeding up the blinding sun as the sky changed around them. Up above, Miri could see the world exploding in different colors, with waves of pink and purple bleeding into green and blue and the beginning of stars speckling the edges of the sky above. A soft silence fell over the jet as the hours passed, and Miri watched the colors fade into a shifting darkness above them.

It was hours later when Ari signaled to Miri that they were entering the edge of the drop zone. Thirty minutes later the jet began slowing down and Ari switched the engine to stealth mode. With a quiet nod at her friend Miri maneuvered herself out of her chair, grasping at the ceiling above her head and moving into the back of the quinjet.

She stood, one hand raised against the roof to keep her balance and used the other to pull a headset from a rack down around her neck, motioning at the agents to do the same so that they could hear her.

"I assume Captain Rogers briefed you on your assignments," she said, speaking to Rumlow, his team, and Agent Romanoff, who all nodded. "Channel seven is clear, so from now on all communication goes through there. I'll be monitoring you from the air, and feeding you necessary information, but you're on your own. Captain Rogers, I'll let you take it from here." She nodded at Steve.

Agent Romanoff's red hair was dimly illuminated by the light from the front of the jet, and she stared Miri down once more as she stepped back. Rogers was completely preoccupied with his comms, or was ignoring her altogether- the more likely option, in Miri's opinion. She sighed, knowing he had heard her and would deliver his own rousing pep talk. Confident that they were ready and didn't need her any longer, Miri turned back to her computer where the heat signature of the Lemurian Star was beginning to appear.

As Miri sat down she heard Steve begin to reiterate what she assumed he had already briefed the agents on. After his short speech he signaled Ari to open the back hatch. Miri immediately became grateful she had pulled her headset back on, as the roaring of the wind was drowning out all conversation and she could barely hear the agents shouting at each other, bantering back and forth as they strapped their gear on. She zoned them out, only hearing a collective laugh of disbelief from STRIKE.

She turned despite herself and saw all parachutes on but three - one for her, one for Ari- and one for Rogers. He had jumped without a parachute. Drama queen.

Miri shook her head and turned back to the cockpit as the rest of the team exited the plane. The heat signatures landed one by one, closely watched and counted as Miri hunched over the control screen. When they were all accounted for she brought her headpiece to her mouth and opened comms.

"Birdie one, requesting status check."

One by one they reported back to her, until she was only waiting on Steve.

His low voice rippled through comms. "Clear."

Strong and silent was understatement for this man.

Miri heard a click as the comms turned off, and she turned to Ari. "They're good. Let's head up."

She silently sent a prayer up to whatever gods existed for good luck as the quinjet began its ascent, breaking through the clouds and disappearing from view.

* * *

_Italian Coast, 0300 hours CET_

Everything went well at first. The timing was perfect, and Rumlow was moving hostages en route to extraction. Miri had signalled the escape boats to rendezvous at the back of the ship. It was all smooth sailing - so to speak.

Then Rumlow's voice came through the comms. "Romanoff missed the rendezvous point, Cap. Hostiles still in play."

Rogers responded quickly. "Copy that - Natasha, Batroc's on the move. Circle aft back to Rumlow - protect the hostages." His voice brooked no room for argument.

But Romanoff wasn't responding.

Steve's voice came back louder. "Natasha!"

There was no response, and then suddenly on the screen where Miri had hacked into the Lemurian Star security feed she could see the fuzzy image of one French pirate attacking Rogers. She could see that Steve had the upper hand, until there was a lull in the fight and Miri heard Batroc's heavily Algerian French over Steve's open comms.

"Je croyais que tu étais plus qu'un bouclier."

Miri's eyes widened- she pressed her finger to her headset, speaking frantically. "Don't take the bait Rogers-"

"On va voir." Steve swung his shield over his shoulder and took his helmet off, cutting off the comms line in the process.

"Are you kidding me?! Rogers, reconnect me right now!" Miri leaned forward, furiously tapping her headset.

"What did he say?" Ari asked curiously.

"Batroc? He said - I thought you were more than a shield." And then Rogers said "We'll see"- at this Miri air-quoted sarcastically - "Because he's a four year old and doesn't know when to walk away!" By the end of her sentence, Miri was just yelling into the void of her microphone.

"You're very invested," Ari observed from the sidelines, looking thoroughly entertained.

Keeping her eyes fixed on the screen, Miri fired back,"Yeah, well, it's my job."

"You know, if I were you, I wouldn't worry. He is Captain America." At this, Miri looked over at Ari, who had a shit-eating grin on her face.

"I'm not worried about him, you ass, I'm worried about the hostages."

"If you say so babes." Ari turned back to the screen with fascination.

Miri snorted and shook her head, turning back to the screen. She looked at where Cap had been a moment before, then did a double take- Rogers and his French adversary had disappeared. "Where did they go?" She searched the screen in confusion.

"Is that them?" Ari pointed at two silhouettes. "In that little room over there?"

"Yep- but who's with them?" Miri mused to herself keeping her eyes trained on the two standing figures.

If Batroc's on the floor, then who's that standing over the computer? Then a click came through Miri's headset as Romanoff's comms were manually switched off, and she realized who the other figure was. What the hell's Romanoff doing there. This is not part of her mission.

And then came the explosion.

She saw two of the figures meld together- she could only assume it was Rogers and Romanoff, with the third skirting the explosion by darting out of the room.

"Shit shit shit shit shit." That was not supposed to happen. Miri quickly opened her comms to Rumlow, praying that he would answer. " Rumlow! Explosion on first deck with Batroc's on the move. Are the hostages clear?"

His response came almost instantly "Almost - any idea where Batroc went?"

Miri shook her head, silently cursing herself. "No, I lost him in the explosion."

"And Cap?"

"On the first deck with Romanoff, right next to the explosion - but he turned his comms off, and I can't get to him. I need his signal to come down."

Not that he would ever give it.

There was silence, and Miri spoke again.

"Rumlow, are you there?" From her screen, Miri could see that he was still upright and standing - alive, then - just refusing to answer her.

Rumlow's voice was harsh when he finally responded. "No, stay up - if it's just Batroc, Cap'll take care of him. Wait for the signal."

"No, I really think I should come down -" Miri was interrupted by the click of Rumlow's comms as he terminated the connection.

"Are you kidding me?" Miri spoke through clenched teeth, leaning over the heat signature screen in frustration. "Can we get any closer without landing?" She whipped her head towards Ari, who nodded, already maneuvering them through the clouds.

"Not by much though. You know protocol says to stay out of sight until we're signaled."

Miri nodded in response. "Okay, but as close as you can, and as soon as we get the signal I want to be down on the deck."

Without the signal, Miri found herself on the edge of her seat peering through the clouds that streamed past, looking for the ship. As the quinjet dropped out the cloud cover it suddenly into view, looming on the horizon. Only part was illuminated by moonlight, but now it was clear that the SHIELD employees were almost completely evacuated.

It was then that a strange movement on the deck caught Miri's attention. A figure was limping around the second deck, where Miri knew the SHIELD backup lifeboats were kept. We didn't post STRIKE there, she thought to herself.

After a moment Miri gasped in realization. It was Batroc who was limping around the shadows of the second deck and now trying to figure out how to deploy one of the abandoned boats. Miri tapped her headset, furiously trying to find an open comms line. "I've got Batroc on second level aft- does anyone copy? Rumlow? Romanoff? Anybody?" She kept tapping her headset, but there was no response - everybody had terminated their lines.

Miri turned to Ari. "Alright. Screw protocol. Put us over the ship - this bastard's not getting away. And I want the loudspeaker on."

"Oh helllll yeah," Ari fist pumped and Miri grimaced. Fuck.

"Am I clear?" Her voice sounded solid- confident even- and she laughed internally. Inside, she felt like someone had just ripped out her intestines and force-fed them to her. There was nothing more that she wanted to do right now than to fly back into the clouds and wait for this whole ordeal to pass her by. Instead, she dipped into the last amount of bravado she had.

"Whenever you're ready, loudspeakers are on." Ari handed Miri a microphone and Miri gulpe.d

"Alright then." No backing out now. Miri took a deep breath and brought her mic to her mouth.

"Georges Batroc! Vous êtes cernés! Laissez vos armes dans le deuxième étage et rendez-vous avec vos mains de haut! Laissez vos armes au deuxième étage."

Her comms clicked open.

"Agent, you have him?" She breathed a sigh of relief as she heard Roger's voice, and quickly replied.

"On the second floor, in the back trying to rig a lifeboat. But he definitely hasn't put down his guns."

Now Miri could see that Rumlow had loaded all the SHIELD employees and was waving his STRIKE team towards a second floor entrance. Miri could see the broad figure of Rogers sprinting across the deck with Romanoff matching his pace- impressive, Miri thought- and then they all disappeared into the shadows of the second floor.

But it was too late.

Miri could see Batroc pushing the lifeboat into the cold sea, and a moment later SHIELD agents burst onto the open deck. What followed was a quick firefight and an attempt to follow him in another boat. But Batroc had thought ahead, disabling the other pods- and when Ari attempted to follow him, there were almost disastrous results. Batroc deployed anti-aircraft measures, and Ari scrambled to avoid being taken down by the small missiles. By the time she threw off their tracking signal and cleared them of danger, Batroc had disappeared.

Miri sat in her seat, clutching the armrests and breathing heavily. "What's a little brush with death every now and then," she said, her voice wavering.

She looked over. Ari's eyes were wide, and she had a crazed smile on her face. Her already curly hair had frizzed and framed her face, as if responding to the intense amount of tension that just flown between the two women. "That's the second time I've been shot at this week. Triple overtime baby."

Miri's comms clicked in her ear, and she jumped. She heard the voice of Steve - "You're clear to land, Agent."

She brought up trembling fingers to her headset. "Copy that, Captain Rogers."

Ari's hands shook over the controls as she maneuvered the quinjet down to the deck of the Lemurian Star.

"So, someone else is going to come clean up the boat, right? I mean, we don't have to carry the - um, bodies? Right?" Ari looked slightly terrified at the prospect of transporting the dead pirates back to Washington DC, already coming down from the adrenaline rush of almost dying at sea.

"No, STRIKE stays behind until the cleanup crew arrives," Miri responded quietly. She could feel the exhaustion seeping into her bones.

Ari thought for a second. "That's good." She opened the back hatch as they landed and Miri turned in her seat, watching the super-soldier and the spy step off the deck and back onto the jet. This time it seemed that Steve was pointedly avoiding looking at Romanoff, who opened her mouth to say something but closed it and turned away when she saw the stony look on his face.

Ari whispered to Miri. "Lovers spat?"

"Ari, no-" Miri whispered back - Rogers was approaching them. Ari turned back to her controls, eyes wide, before closing the hatch and pulling the quinjet back into the air.

Miri could feel her stomach sinking into her feet again as they took off, but tried to ignore it and focus on Rogers' approaching face- or rather- faces. Her vision was going blurry, and Miri could feel her stomach churning. The intensity of what she'd just gone through was hitting her all at once, and combined with her bad reaction to flying, Miri had a strong suspicion she was about to puke all over Steve's boots.

"Agent. I'd just like to say- Agent, are you alright?"

Miri could feel a strong grip on her shoulder, propping her up, and she tried to look up into Steve's face. A blurred look of confusion had replaced his earlier angry expression, only to be followed by realization when Miri croaked out her next words.

"Bathroom," she said, feeling the bile rise in her throat.

Steve stepped to the side while keeping a firm grip on her arm, and Miri rose, clutching her stomach.

"In the back, on the right." Ari pointed over Steve's shoulder, and Miri began hobbling to the door with Steve by her side, one hand clapped over her mouth and the other on her stomach.

"Hold on- I'll get you some water." Steve let go of her, opting to leave the splash zone.

Miri ignored him, prying the bathroom door open instead. It swung on its hinges, almost smacking her in the face, and she fell to her knees by the small toilet. She could feel Romanoff's eyes on her and closed the door right before emptying the meager contents of her stomach into the toilet bowl. She retched, holding her hair back and blinking - her eyes watered as she forced herself to swallow down the rest of the bile. Her mouth tasted bitter and she grimaced, but the world was righting itself. Miri sat back and leaned her cheek against the cool metal wall, breathing slowly and trying to calm her stomach.

There was a knock on the door, and Miri sat up as heard Steve's muffled voice. "I got you a bottle of water."

"Okay - um, you can just set it by the door." Miri listened for the sound of his footsteps to recede so that she could grab the water, but he didn't move.

"Agent - are you okay?"

Miri blinked. Okay? Was he blind, or had he missed the part where she almost ralphed all over him? "No- I'm fine. Thank you for the water."

"Alright." Steve sounded hesitant.

"Really- thank you-" Miri insisted. She waited, and breathed a sigh of relief as she heard his heavy footsteps move away from the door. Miri opened the door a crack and took the bottle before quickly closing it again. She leaned against the wall and sipped the lukewarm water carefully, not wanting to upset her stomach. The bathroom was stifling- air conditioning had only been installed in the main bay- and the faint smell of vomit emanated in waves from the toilet. Miri felt a wave of heat and exhaustion pass over her and leaned her head backwards, breathing through her nose.

It's okay. You're okay. You did good today. Everyone's alive. Miri took a sip of water. Keep breathing.

She looked up at the dim light flickering above her and swallowed. Leaving the bathroom was not looking promising.

Sitting here won't change the fact that everyone outside that door knows exactly what happened.

Miri braced herself on the toilet and brought herself to her feet, ignoring the feeling of nausea that accompanied the movement. She looked at herself in the small mirror and sighed, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

"You idiot," she whispered to herself, "That might possibly be the most embarrassing thing you've ever done, but now you have to pick yourself up, and go sit outside, and for the love of god- don't throw up again."

She gave herself a hard squint in the mirror before turning, opening the door and stepping out into the air-conditioned bay.

* * *

Steve stayed seated as the bathroom door opened, but his eyes followed Agent Merdan as she stepped out. Steve could see the way her eyes were bloodshot and how her trembling hand gripped the plastic water bottle he'd brought her. She looked a far cry from the woman who had torn him a new one earlier, and couldn't help but think of all the men who he had seen come back from war, shellshocked and on their knees. They had thrown up just like she had, and for a moment he was there. The wet air, and the smell of mortars and gunfire mixed with blood and sweat and tears and vomit- he could smell it all. And he could smell it on her. Not the blood, but the sweat and tears and vomit. Stress produced a distinct smell, and Steve knew it by heart.

He was glad he'd given her the water bottle. Maybe it would make up for what an ass he'd been earlier, but her voice rang through his thoughts.

"Unless you disagree with something other than my fundamental existence, I'd appreciate it if you would let me do my job."

He'd fucked up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again I would like to thank everyone who is reading/following/reviewing this fic. I'm so happy you guys are here. I worked on these two chapters for a while so I hope you like them. Please comment, it literally makes my day. ALSO THANK YOU LIZZY XOXO


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